


Lost My Fear of Falling (I Will Be With You)

by thrillerqueen



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Girl/Girl, Implied Smut, and her and phoebe get together, and ross gets what he deserves, is my ross bias obvious, the one where rachel isn't straight, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrillerqueen/pseuds/thrillerqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where phoebe is in love with rachel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost My Fear of Falling (I Will Be With You)

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: not every single friend could have been straight, especially phoebe. there isn't enough girl/girl in this fandom, so here we are today!! title is from "it's not a fashion statement, it's a fucking deathwish" by my chemical romance

She's always taken Phoebe's breath away, ever since day one. Ever since she burst into Central Perk, eyeliner running, hem of her perfect white dress tainted with the grime of New York city.  
Phoebe's entire world stopped for a second when Rachel was standing helplessly in the middle of the cafe. She could see Rachel's lips moving, hear the general sympathetic murmur of the guys, see Monica go in for a hug, and her pounding heart was echoing in her brain. All she could think was, “God, she's beautiful.” And then her brain started to function, and she said something really stupid about her ex, and then Rachel's eyes were on her. Artificially shiny with tears, but still the kind of blue that poets wrote ocean metaphors about. All Phoebe wanted to do was to kiss away her tears, make her forget Barry, and replace everywhere he touched her with her own hands. Even with red rimmed eyes, smudged mascara, and messy hair, she was beautiful. She was so damn beautiful, ethereally so, and Phoebe was so gone for her. 

The hardest part was being around her. Rachel didn't walk, she floated. She shone brighter than a supernova, and Phoebe was just a neutron star. 

She watched from afar so long. She watched heartbreak after heartbreak. She watched her get back together with Ross despite their relationship being a time bomb that would inevitably leave a shard in her heart, and she would always be the one to rub her back and tell her how much Ross stank. Hurricane Ross, who would take her by storm, destroy her, and leave her a wreck. Then she'd go back to him, and the cycle would start all over again. 

It wasn't just Ross, either. It was also a seemingly endless stream of absolute nothing guys, who would all have some kind of fault, and devastate her. 

But there were other people for Phoebe, too. Various boys, and girls, who would leave the morning after, or dump her after a couple of weeks, or cheat. None of them lasted longer than a month. Her heart felt like a smashed vase; broken by someone careless and cracked beyond repair. 

But then along came Mike. Lovely, sweet, caring, Mike, whom she met by accident. His touch was like magic, and he mended her broken heart, just a little bit. They had so much fun together, they went so many places, but it just wasn't destined to last. Loving him was like holding together her heart with superglue; it worked for a little while, but eventually, it's going to fall apart. She loved Mike, she really did. But it was always going to be Rachel. As much as she loved Mike, it was Rachel's face that crept into her mind in the early hours, not the man lying next to her. 

Slowly, but surely, the spark begins to fade, and Mike notices. He notices the way Phoebe looks at Rachel, the enamoured look in her eyes when she enters the room, like Jesus Himself just came through the door. The way Phoebe talks about her, with glassy eyes and a smile that can't leave her face.  
So her sits her down one day. He strokes her cheeks, for the last time. 

'You love Rachel, don't you?'  
The question takes her by surprise, and she looks up, gasping, and her widened blues meet Mike's knowing greens. He's seen it before. That was the reason his last “perfect” marriage ended up as a train wreck. She fell for another. 

All she can do is nod.  
'I'm sorry.' she says, enveloping him in a hug and burrowing her face into his warm shoulder. He pushes her away to arm's length, and studies her with a sad smile.  
'Phoebe, you love her. You have for so long. Me and you – we were great. But it's always been her, hasn't it?'  
She nods again, warm tears spilling down her blushed cheeks.  
'Yeah. Don't let me stand in the way. I'll be ok. Go get your girl.'

She hugs him again, thanks him for everything, and leaves. But it's not that easy. It never is. She misses Mike. Maybe they weren't meant to be, but all she wants to do is run back to his arms, because it's safe. She doesn't have to worry about stupid cute girls with dumb blue eyes and ridiculous blonde hair. Straight girls, who are unattainable. Straight girls, who she is in love with. 

One of the hardest parts is telling her friends about the breakup. Everyone is appalled and outraged, and they all want to know why, and she just wants to cry again. She loves Mike, but she loves Rachel more, but of course she can't tell her that. Instead, she grits her teeth and lies. Like she always has. Ross has his arm around Rachel, and she's so happy she's positively glowing, and God, she wants to punch that smug look off his face and scream at him until her voice goes hoarse. 

It hurts. It really does. Phoebe doesn't know how much heartbreak one heart can take before it's fatal, but she thinks she must be pretty close. First it was her mother. She'd thought the pain would never stop. It was like being hit by a massive wave, and then being pulled under the salty swell. Eventually, the water stopped pouring into her lungs and she could breathe again, but she never really made it to the shore. Then along came Rachel, and the sand scraped roughly against her on the way down. Mike was like a tiny, half-inflated life buoy, but of course, she was soon tipped back into the sea. 

It's not a cheesy 80's movie where she gets the girl, and they're off into the sunset to a Peter Gabriel song, and Ross fucks off for good. It's never that god-damn simple. Because not only is Rachel presumably straight, even if she wasn't, it'd be Monica. Monica is beautiful, and funny, and not awkward. They were best friends in high school after all, and it was Monica that Rachel had come looking for after she'd left Barry at the altar and had hit rock bottom, and Phoebe had interrupted their reunion with her stupid ex comments and dumb crimped hair. God, why was she so stupid?

She enters the apartment, and there's Rachel sitting at the kitchen table, reading the daily horoscopes, in her dressing gown with messy hair and no make up, and still managing to look like a Greek goddess. Phoebe is so far gone it's not even funny. 

'Hey Pheebs!' she greets her happily, and it's just too much. The fact that she is in love with this girl, and that the girl she loves keeps going back to a total douche who cheats on her, talks down to her, treats her like anything less than a princess, when what she's been looking for has been right here all along. 

She remembers once, Monica asked Rachel about her dream guy in the wee hours of the morning, in the early days. She thought for a minute.  
'My dream guy – would have to be funny. He'd have to be my best friend. He would have to be handsome, and sweep my off my feet, and spoil me.'  
Phoebe felt like screaming, ME. I COULD DO ALL OF THAT. But instead she bites her tongue, smiles, murmurs her agreement. 

She tries to smile at Rachel, and fails, watery grin stretched too wide to be genuine across her face. Her eyes fill with tears yet again, and she tails it to her bedroom.  
Rachel follows her. Of course. She doesn't get time to lock the door before Rachel is in the room with her. 

'I want to be alone right now.' she says shakily, collapsing onto her bed.  
Rachel folds her arms.  
'You've been off for weeks. Something's up.' her tone is harsh, and Phoebe buries her face into her pillow.  
Her expression softens, and she sits on the bed.  
Phoebe can feel her pulse began to elevate as she comes closer. She lays a hand on the small of Phoebe's back, and it's like she sets fire to her skin. The heat rushes all the way up to Phoebe's cheeks.  
'What's happened?' she asks softly, rubbing her back.  
'Are you still hung up on Mike?'  
Phoebe shakes her head.  
'Who broke your heart?' asks Rachel gently.  
Well, it's now or never. She sits up, and shuffles closer. 

They're sitting face-to-face, so close they can feel each other's body heat, and Phoebe's heart is pounding like the snare drum in a marching band. She puts one hand on Rachel's knee, uses the other to stroke her jaw, cup her cheek.  
'You did.' she says simply, and leans in. 

She kisses Rachel, and it's like coming home. She tastes like salt, from the tears running down Phoebe's face, and summer rain, and peach chapstick. Rachel freezes, and Phoebe's heart sinks. She knew she never should've tried it. She goes to pull away, but then Rachel is leaning forward, kissing her back, even placing a shaking hand on her hip.  
Phoebe is the first to pull away. She breaks the kiss, and leans her forehead against hers.  
'It's always been you.' she whispers tenderly.  
'I love you.' Rachel whispers back brokenly, and it takes Phoebe a minute to register it. But then her kissing back, what she said, it all sinks in at once.  
'Wait. You.. You love me back?' she says in disbelief, sitting back slightly.  
Rachel nods, lips trembling and tears threatening to overflow.  
'Now kiss me again.' she demands, even though her voice is shaking. Phoebe laughs, all too happy to oblige, and their lips meet again, and Phoebe can almost hear the fireworks going off again.  
They spend the rest of the evening learning each other's bodies like maps; all lingering touches and long kisses. There really is an advantage to having a masseuse for a girlfriend; she knows all the right places to press her fingers to make her gasp, and all the spots to make her come undone underneath her with her skilled hands. The pounding city rain is like a drum on their roof, as they lay together afterwards, fingers entwined, Phoebe's chipped blue nail polish a stark contrast to Rachel's neatly manicured, red nails.

They tell everyone the next day. Their announcement is met with high fives, hugs, and money being angrily slapped down. Phoebe's favourite part is the look on Ross' face. 

Phoebe doesn't know if she's ever been happier. It's like the sun is finally kissing her skin after a lifetime of frigid rain. As for Rachel, she didn't know what she was looking for until she found it. Monica moves out with her boyfriend, and then they have the apartment to themselves. From hectic Monday morning rushes to lazy Sunday afternoons, Phoebe has another reason to love them all. But she thinks that Sundays are her favourites. Bloomingdale's isn't open and Phoebe never books any appointments, so they're free to just lay tangled together in the sheets until the afternoon, all muffled giggles and soft kisses. One Sunday, she texts Mike a photo of Rachel in bed, afternoon sun glowing on her skin, sheet wrapped round her waist, blue eyes sparkling. 

“got my girl xoxo” 

Loving Rachel is knowing her heart is fully intact once more, this time for good. Loving Rachel is easy, and it's fun. Every day is an adventure with her, and every day she falls a little bit more in love.

One day, she slides a golden ring round Rachel's finger and asks her if she would please spend the rest of her life with her. Rachel can't get the “yes” out fast enough.

So they get married in a simple Central Park ceremony, because neither of them wanted anything too grandiose. Rachel's standing at the end of the makeshift aisle in her wedding dress, carefully dry cleaned, in the afternoon sun. When Phoebe sees her standing there, she gets her breath taken away all over again.

It's just like when they first met, but this time those are tears of joy in Rachel's eyes, and Rachel loves Phoebe more than any gravy boat, and they're surrounded by all of their friends. Everyone was there. Even Gunther got an invitation, which he very graciously declined. 

'I'm surprised I still fit in this suit after me and Chandler's wedding'. Joey quips, and everyone groans just remembering the copious amount of food that Monica had provided for the couple. This time, simple finger food has sufficed, courtesy of Monica's restaurant. 

Then the band starts up, the first notes of “Can't Help Falling in Love” ringing out in the open air. Chandler walks Phoebe down the aisle, beaming the widest she'd seen him beam since Joey finally proposed. 

They repeat after Joey, whose ordainment luckily hadn't run out since Monica's wedding. Phoebe promises to love Rachel forever, although she doesn't need a certificate to tell her that.  
Then it's time for their vows, and Rachel goes first.

'Phoebe, this is my second wedding. The difference is, this time, I actually love the person I'm marrying. Phoebe Buffay-Green, I am in love with you, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.'

Phoebe has to deliver hers with a lump in her throat.

“Rachel, when we first met, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, and I still think that. I thought that I'd only be able to dream of standing across the aisle from you, yet here we are. I never had a family, but now, you are my family. I have a beautiful wife to come home to, and I love you. Oh yeah, and you have nice eyes.'

Then they're married, and Phoebe kisses the bride, and everyone's cheering, and tears are shed, and there are Mike and his wife, and they finally get their happily ever after.


End file.
